Cruel Summer
by heathos
Summary: Arnold and Helga finish their junior year of high school, have Junior Prom, and go to summer camp. Told in alternating journal and first person perspectives. Please read the prequel story [Yeah, We'll Meet Again] before reading this one.
1. April 1

This is the main story, before you read this- PLEASE read my prequel titled Yeah, We'll Meet Again

* * *

 **Wishing I owned Hey Arnold! but I don't and Craig Bartlett/Nickelodeon do**

* * *

April 1-

I had the dream again. Arnold and I are dancing. Hot and sweaty; our faces touching. "Helga," his voice is hollow and far away, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you." He turns me fast and hard. My heart is beating faster than a hummingbird. He dips me low, bringing me right into his body. I am so hot; I could burst into flames any moment. Our noses just meet; we are breathing the same air, it is too much, "Yeah I've just been waiting-," his voice is low, "waiting for the right moment." he spins me again and brings me in close- I am cold. There is no air. Only water. I kick with all my might, but there is nothing to push off, and nowhere to go. There is only water in every direction. Everything begins to go black- and once again I wake up with my face crashed into the floor of my bedroom.

-HGP

"Every year I have that damn dream," I groan and get up. "No air? Hmph, this room has no air." I turn on a fan and try to get back to sleep, I should be fine now.


	2. April 2

April 2-

I've spent every night for two weeks at Chez Paris, since I saw her here with _him_ , placing her shoe in the rose bushes and sketching with fervor- I had to start over after the third day because the planters had been trimmed and I lost my original roses. And who should come in on a date, but Leon. No Helga though. He has none other than Lila Sawyer with him; I see our school isn't the only one she gets around. I snap a picture on my phone and take a few video clips of them flirting and sharing food. I wait until they go to leave and get some more pictures of them holding hands and kissing.

I know Gerald is out with Phoebe tonight, so I will talk to him tomorrow.  
I take the shoe and go home. I sit on the roof and stare in the direction of her building. Taking out my phone I look at the pictures and can't help but wonder if Helga is the type of girl to shoot the messenger. Yes. She absolutely is.

* * *

Normally tonight would have been date night, but Bob had this local business owner's award shindig and I had to play dress-up and go. We get home and he goes to his trophy room, which is really just an extension for the room he has filled with all of Olga's trophies and crap.

"See Olga," Bob starts in on me the second he walks into that room, I swear! "See, that's how you win an award. Not like you and that business last year. You didn't even make it that far this year."

I already had too much of this. "It's Helga, Bob. H-E-L-G-A. And we did get asked back this year, but they moved it to the end of June, so more schools could make it. Not everyone has the same spring break."

He starts to speak again but I am already outside. I go to my pile of floor pillows and lay on my back and between a row of planters and our big glass banister. It is my favorite spot in the penthouse; I can see across the water right over to the old neighborhood. I pull my phone out and get ready to text Leon, but my eyes drift. Buildings are blocking my view, but I don't need to see it to see it. I'd been on that roof enough times to know it by heart.


	3. April 3

April 3-

After finishing my chores I text Gerald.

[Hey G- I have a 911]

[Need me 2 come over?]

[There is no food here I need to pick something up I can meet you]

[ slausons w PH]

[Good may as well tell her too]

Four minutes later I am sitting across from Gerald and Phoebe in a booth at the back of the ice cream parlor. The server comes by, "BLT, light toast, extra tomatoes; with a Yahoo," I tell him and he jots down the order and walks off without ever looking up. They stare at me, I just stare back. I pull up the camera on my phone and slide it across the table to them. Phoebe grabs the phone after she realizes what she is looking at and scrolls through so fast I can't imagine she actually saw the images. She goes back to the beginning and checks every detail in each image, a deep scowl forming on her face. Each time she gets to a video she watches at least twice.

"Send me a copy," she says, her eyes still glued to the screen.

"What should we do, I mea-"

"Everything," she says, interrupting me. "Send me a copy of everything." She is quiet. "You will do nothing, I will handle this."


	4. April 4

April 4-

Phoebe sent me a text first thing in the morning.

[Helga, I really need to talk to you about something. When are you free?]

I am happy that I turn my ringer off while I sleep, that girl wakes up over an hour before me. I get back to her on my way to school.

[I have practice tonight. Bubble testing this week, be home like 3 tomorrow. Whatsup?]

Even though we have standardized testing, I still have two hour practices.

[OK. See you tomorrow.]

[Hey no fair. Tell me.]

[I will tomorrow]

I don't really get to reply, as I am at school and almost late. So I get to my homeroom and start writing in my trusty pink notebook- an ode to my wonderful boyfriend.

Junior Prom

The girls at school, your sister too, barrage  
me day and night about the junior dance.  
They say I must choose perfect camouflage  
and let you know my colors true; perchance  
my love seek out a vivacious corsage  
that cannot compete with me at first glance.  
We rent a limo with our entourage  
and live it up and dine before we prance.  
In line we wait, and looking to and fro  
before standing in the lights, a fella  
and his gal- we pose and let the flash glow.  
Our love is not a checkstand novella;  
forever will I cherish this photo,  
from the day I am your Cinderella.

-HGP

* * *

* Occitan sonnet [ABAB-ABAB-CDCDCD]


	5. April 5

April 5-

When I get home, the doorman has already let Phoebe up, and the maid has let her in. I find her on the deck sitting in the pile of outdoor pillows; a hoard of snack food and pints of ice cream are laid out in front of her. I am beginning to worry. "Whatsup, Phoebs?" I ask, adding, "If I had a dog, I'd be asking you right now if it was dead."

"Helga, sit if you would be so kind," she says while gesturing across from herself- she is being formal, not a good sign. I walk over and flop down into a perfect preschool status floor sit.

"Sitting!" I say, imitating her sweet, sing-song voice in an attempt to lighten the mood. She isn't having it. "Is everything okay? Did something happen with you and Tall Hair Boy? I'll kill him! He doesn-"

"Helga," she says, interrupting me. "Helga, this is serious. I sent you an email containing a number of photograph and video files. I need you to look at them." I am confused, why couldn't she just show me on her phone? "I sent them to your phone, because I don't really want you breaking mine while I have all my SAT notes set up on it."

"Oh." This is serious. I take out my phone and see the notice for the email on my screen. I look at her face one more time, and then open the first file. It is a picture of Lila. What am I looking at? I look back at Phoebe, then decide to go for a video file- I promptly wish I hadn't. It is a much better view, his left side is his better side- and that is definitely what I was looking at. Leon being fork fed by that sow Lila. "He. But. He." I let out a raging scream; I think I may have burst a blood vessel in my eye. It doesn't matter; thick globes of salty pain are streaming down my cheeks. I stare at Phoebe, "Who saw this? Who gave this to you? When did this happen?" While I am talking, she opens a pint and puts a spoon in my left hand, and the banana chocolate chip in my right. I shove a huge scoop- nearly a third of the carton into my face, much more than my mouth can handle at the moment.

I am trying to think up a way to kill the betrayer and the homewrecker while smothering myself with my ice cream when a thought occurs to me. The crying becomes full sobbing; I am near convulsions and beyond braying. "Phoebs?" I say, my speech muffled because my mouth still buried in my extra large scoop on my spoon. "Will you go to prom with me? I already bought the tick-khets." I drop my spoon back in the small carton and cry. Phoebe pours a glass of water out on a hand towel and wipes off my face, saving me from the ice cream and the big bubble that was puffing up under my nose.

She sits with me on the balcony the rest of the evening and just lets me cry through it. I ask her again who told her, but she said that they want to stay anonymous for now, but they thought I should know. I tell her to thank them, whoever it is. Her prom is the week before mine, so she agrees to go with me, and we make plans to go dress shopping over the weekend before it gets late and she leaves.

I really don't know what I'd do without that girl.


	6. April 6

April 6-

Phoebe never got back to me last night. I couldn't sleep. I stayed up reading _her_ old journal, the one Gerald and I found back in fourth grade. I can't pay attention in any of my classes; I won't get to see Phoebe until lunch period. I know that she saw her last night, that she told her; I have to know what happened.

I run to our lunch table, nearly taking out a group of freshies on my way, and wait rather impatiently. Before Phoebe can even set down her lunch I am jumping down her throat, "What did you tell her? What happened? What did she say?"

"I handled it, okay Arnold?" The words are heavy for such a small girl, "Do you think that was easy? That I like seeing her like that?" She looks me in the eye, "I am her best friend. Her pain is my pain. Last night was painful. I handled it."

We ate the rest of our lunch in silence.

* * *

Sorry about getting this out late, I wasn't able to post from my phone like I thought, and just realized it never went up!


	7. April 7

April 7-

Why did it have to be Lila? I swear that girl doesn't want me to have anything. I still have to figure out how to approach this and still keep Kayla as my friend and the team on good terms. I wish we didn't have this standardized testing right now, at least with class I could focus on something else, I finish the test well before the finish time and have to sit and wait until everyone is finished. It gives me way too much time to think.

At least I pretty much cried it all out with Phoebe the other day.

I keep messing up at practice. I am letting this jerk get to me; coach isn't though, and I get the pleasure of earning myself an extra twelve laps after practice for messing up so many times. I needed it though, it was good to clear my head. You can't think of much else except the pounding of your feet while running. I am exhausted when I get home though, so I run myself a hot bath and dump in an excessive amount of Epsom salts and some lavender oil, pop in a classical music cd, and grab a favorite trashy novel from my nightstand. I am set for a good long soak.

 _I wake up to the sound of someone in the room and a hand clasps over my mouth before I can scream. Before I know it, I am bound, dressed only in my now torn underclothes. The crew of thirty pirates stares greedily, some whistle. "I will never tell you where he is," I tell the pirate captain before me._

 _"I don't need you to tell me, he will come," he retorts, slipping his rapier under one of my sleeves and slicing the right side of my dress clean open- thankfully I was only taking a nap and was still in my corset. The men whistle and holler._

 _"Do what you will then," I reply, keeping my chin up. I do my best to stare him down. It doesn't do much, he places the tip of his blade between my breasts, and uses it to pull down the front of my under dress a bit, before pressing a bit more forcefully. The skin pushes in, but not enough for blood to break skin._

 _"Best be walkin' love, or this sword will be finding its way right through you." I take a step back and turn to face the plank._

 _I take a few large steps out, I am standing in the middle of the board. Still over the water, but not at the edge yet. I close my eyes, "Goodbye, my love!" I go to take another step forward, and my body doubles over. I am righted, and now on the quarterdeck; I am in my loves' arms, his blond locks billowing in the wind under his headscarf. He leaves me, and fights all thirty pirates from the stairs, blocking their path to me._

 _Finally it is just my love and the captain. They both lunge and dodge, circling each other over and over. Finally my love overcomes him, and throws him overboard. He takes me in his arms; our hair is blowing in the wind, his shirt cut open. I am looking at his broad chest and he takes my chin in his hand, "I have never loved another thing as I love you," his green eyes set my heart on fire; we grab locks of each others hair in our hands and kiss- long, slow, smoldering._

My girlhood trembles.


	8. April 8

April 8-

I don't know if I can wait another day of dragging this on, I call Leon and ask if he wants to grab a burger tonight. Then I call Rhonda. I meet him at our usual booth near the side window and slide in. "Hey," I say as I start looking at the menu.

"Hey there," he replies. I want to lunge across the table rip his stupid lips off. I see Rhonda standing outside with Kayla. She is showing Kayla the same email that Phoebe had sent me, the same email I sent her about twenty minutes ago. "Helga, you get those prom tickets yet?" Kayla is visibly upset, her hands are over her mouth; they must be done, Rhonda is pointing inside to our booth.

"Yes, I did." I say as I nod, staring directly at Rhonda, "But you see, the thing is, I won't be going with you to prom." The girls are nearly on us. He looks up at me and before he can open his mouth to say anything- SLAP! Exactly what I'd hoped for; if I'd hit him I could be kicked off the team, between the two of them it becomes a family issue. I needed to use my phone on the sly anyway.

"What is your problem!" Kayla is yelling at him; she is making a statement, not asking a question.

"My problem? You girls are nuts. What is your deal?" Leon is still holding on, "Helga, are you mad at me? Why aren't you going to prom with me?"

*You've got mail!*

"That would be why, Leon." I get up and walk out of the restaurant, our little group taking things outside in my wake.

"Wait, Helga," he is trying to stop me, and see what I sent him at the same time. He manages to grab my arm, but before I can turn to do anything, he freezes. He knows full well what he is looking at. Kayla peels his fingers off of my arm, the sound from the video making her angrier each second.

"How could you do that Leon?" Kayla is a foot shorter than him, but that doesn't stop her from getting in his face, "Helga is my friend! How could you?"

"Kayla," Rhonda doesn't want this to become a full fight, "it isn't worth it." Kayla nods and walks over to us; we leave him standing by the door. "That, girls, is why I don't date guys. They are all pigs."

"Speaking of which, is the school going to let you bring Patty to prom?" Kayla asks, but I want to find out too.

"I don't know yet, I am turning in her guest permit* on Monday, I really hope she can." Rhonda turns to me, "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah, thanks for helping me out back there." I sigh, "I think I'm just gonna go stay at Phoebe's tonight." We say our goodbyes and part ways. I get to the train depot in time to catch the last commuter subway to the old neighborhood; it may be more crowded, but there are almost no stops. I call Phoebe, but it goes straight to voicemail, "Hey Phoebs, you are probably already at the movies with Tall Hair Boy, let me know when you get home." I also send Bob a text since it helps keep him off my back.

[Going to spend tonight Phoebe]

The subway stops as I put my phone away. "Now what to do until Phoebe gets home?" I ask aloud to nobody. I head out in the direction of Phoebe's house, my hands in my pockets, kicking a pebble along my way. A flash of pink catches my eye. I reach up and my bow is gone. I run after it as it dances on the wind, high above my head. After many blocks, full of twists and turns, it catches on a fire escape. I climb up the fire escape, "Gotcha! You thought you could get away fro-" I suddenly know exactly which fire escape I have come up. "This would be where I end up tonight."

* * *

*Most schools don't let you bring just anybody to the dances and you have to apply/sign up anyone that isn't a student, and there are usually age restrictions. Patty was 14/6th grade when they were 9/4th grade, making her most likely 22 when they are 17.

* * *

Also, I uploaded this, but forgot to post last night, I am so sorry you guys!


	9. April 9

April 9-

I woke up on the roof. It is there in that moment between dreaming and existing that she is there with me. The golden rays of the sun are her hair, dancing around her face as she leans over me. They are her body, touching me as she closes in to look in my face. They are her words, warming my soul as she tells me good morning. The sky itself is in her eyes, full of the stars that fade away from the night. The breeze blows, that golden ray of sunshine in her hair brushes across my cheek. "Helga?" Was last night real?

 **-Last Night-**

I spent my Friday night like I do most Fridays, down at the docks. People watching makes me feel not quite as lonely. I focus my attention on a trio of street musicians in sparkly shirts belting out Neil Diamond. If anything, I must admire their passion. I take out my journal, give them a quick field sketch, and write about them. How they move, the songs they play; I imagine what their lives are like outside of the scope of this music that brings them this joy. I finish my short story, and the musicians are packing up for the night, it is time to head home.

I get upstairs and into my room; before I can grab my remote and turn on my lights, I see a shadow cross my skylight. I leave the light off and setting my things down I climb out onto the roof. The figure sits at my Grandma's piano and I sneak in the dark to come out behind them. I am ready to strike at them with my karate then I hear it.

"I guess I wasn't even worth lying to in the end. He just let me walk away." _Could it be?_ "Stupid ribbon, flying away and taking me to stupid Arnold's house." _Hey! Still, it isn't a burglar._ "If only he knew. How many nights I sat up on this roof. How seeing his hair each day was my own personal sunrise. How… how weak I am. How messed up I am." She is crying. I sneak away to the main roof access, open and close the door, and pretend that I had just come out on the roof. I can tell she is frozen, hoping she won't be noticed up here. I go right around to face her.

"A- Arnold?" Good, she wasn't aware I was here earlier.

"Helga, what are you doing on my roof?" I play coy with her.

"Arnold. I was- was- I was just… um…"

"Practicing the piano?" I up a suggestion. She sits there on the bench, contemplating in silence. "Helga, are you alright? Is there anything you need to talk about?" She realizes that I can see the tears that have run down her cheeks and lowers her head. I sit on the bench next to her and put my hands on her shoulders, "I want you to talk to me, whatever it is. Even if it is just about your homework." I pull her in and I hug her hard. "Please wait right here, let me just go get something, alright?"

I run fast and nearly fall down the stairs; but I grab some Yahoo sodas and the candy from my Easter basket, which I had received and then promptly forgotten about, and some pillows and blankets. I run back up and she is standing, but she is still here. I lay the blankets out, each one stacked on top of the other, throw the pillows down at one end and sit. She is hesitant, but walks over. "No funny business, got it bucko?" She doesn't wait for me to respond and sits down on the makeshift tuffet. I pop open a Yahoo and hand it to her, open one for myself, and set down the basket of candy to the side.

We drink our Yahoo and sit in silence for a few minutes before either of us speaks again. "Are all guys jerks?"

"Honestly Helga, as much as I would like to tell you no, they probably are. Even I can be a jerk. As much as I try to find the good in everyone, I think that everyone has it in them to be a jerk. But that doesn't mean that someone can't also be funny and polite and honest. Sometimes people just get selfish and are jerks because of it."

"You think you can be a jerk?"

"Yes, even I can be a jerk. I've made you cry a few times, I was obviously a jerk. I probably did things I wasn't even aware of too. It happens. I am sorry about it though, making you cry, that is."

"Thanks. It means a lot to hear that," in those words, I know it, the real Helga is here. She isn't putting up her front.

"Do you mind if I ask, what did this guy do?"

"Lila." She still says that name with ice on her tongue. "Well, I don't know if he _did_ Lila, but he was seeing her behind my back. Someone saw him and Lila together and took pictures and video, literally a week after my birthday! They gave it to Phoebe and she showed me. She wouldn't tell me who it was that told her though, something about guarding her sources."

"Helga, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, it isn't your fault and it isn't your problem." She sighs and continues, "I just thought I could have something for me, it was nice to feel special to someone." The darkness of night doesn't hide the shimmer of the tear that rolls down her face. I get up on my knees and move closer to her and take her in a big hug. This time, she hugs me back. After a moment, her sniffles become full sobbing and her body convulses against mine. I hold her like that; one hand rubbing her back, the other stroking her hair. She cries for nearly an hour before running out of momentum. I can tell she is about done when she speaks again, "God, this is so embarrassing."

"Shh, no it isn't." I pull myself away a bit so I can look her in the eyes. "You guys were together for what, a year? That isn't forever, but it is a lot of time, especially at this phase in our lives. I'm sure you have lots of memories that are making this harder for you than it will seem to you later. In ten years, this won't even matter to you at all."

"Thank you, Arnold." She is looking me in the eyes, she is still in my arms, and I want to kiss her so bad.

"Here, lie down." I don't kiss her. It wouldn't be fair. I don't want to be a rebound. _You were caught up in the heat of the moment, right?_ I want to do this right. I move the top blanket over and she gets down, but is propped up on her elbows. "Helga… you can trust me. I would never hurt you." I pat the pillow behind her and she rests her head on it. I cover her with the blanket.

"Did you just tuck me into bed?"

"Just trust me, okay?" I take my finger and I lightly stroke her forehead between her eyes, up and down. Within minutes, she is asleep. I put another pillow in place for myself, and one between us under the blanket. No funny business. I hold her hand for a minute, and kiss her fingers before putting it down, "Goodnight Helga, I love you."

* * *

I wake up. I had the best sleep last night, better than I had been able to get all week. I open my eyes and see Arnold asleep next to me. My heart can't decide if it wants to stop or catch fire. I see the pillow he put between us, and resting on top of it- our hands- each of our fingers laced together. It is a moment I want to savor, and I do just that. But I do have to get up. When he told me to wait last night, I had sent Phoebe a text telling her I would be there first thing in the morning and to cover for me. But before I leave, I crawl over to him, right next to him, and place an arm over each side of his head and hover over him. He opens his eyes. "Good morning."

My hair is moving softly in the morning breeze, framing his beautiful face. I lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek, "Thanks for last night," I say into his ear before kissing his cheek once more. I grab my bag and head over to Phoebe's before he can finish rolling over to stand up.


	10. April 10

April 10-

 _"Good morning." Her hair sways in the breeze, she leans in to kiss me-_

*Hey Arnold* *Hey Arnold* *Hey Arnold*

"Ungh. A new Helga dream." I roll out of bed and throw on my basketball clothes, "Why can't I dream of being naked in school or something? At least then I would be happy that I woke up."

[Hey G- just got up meet in 15]

[CU there]

I may have quit the basketball team, but I still meet up with Gerald most weekends for a game of Horse, or sometimes, the gang meets up for a game. I grab an apple and throw a string cheese in my pocket. I eat the apple bottom to top, I saw a guy do it online once, so I have only the top stem to drop on the ground. I finish the string cheese by the time I get to the courts and toss the wrapper as I pass the trash. It's the perfectly timed pre-game breakfast if I do say so.

We start with our stretches, followed by five laps around the court. It is a meditative process, and done in silence today just as we always do. The second the ball hits the court is a different matter though.

"Alright man, tell me about it." Gerald always likes to get straight to the point.

"About what?" I wonder what he actually wants to know about, but I can guess. He starts with the same shot he always does- his 'patented name brand' shot- a half spin fake pass, spin back with a single hand toss from the side over the head. It is a great shot, and always messes up the other team. But I have been playing with him basically our whole lives, and I easily make the shot.

"About Friday night. C'mon man, you know I was with Phoebe, and you know I know something happened Friday night. My man Fuzzy Slippers told me something happened. Don't act like it didn't, and just tell me." It is my turn to mess him up, I make a shot I know he hates- a quick run from the free-throw line to the corner, a quick turn, and shoot, making sure to get the ball over the backboard. He hits the side like he usually does. "H" He retrieves the ball, and stares at me for a few seconds, "And speaking of H, tell me about Friday night."

"What makes you think anything happened Friday?"

"I was with Phoebe, and she was going to leave our date to be with Helga. Now I know she just broke up with her boyfriend, because of that spy work you did, and-"

"I was not spying, I was already there and they showed up."

"Whatever you say man, your evidence caused Helga to break up with her boyfriend. _And_ I know you have a thing for her. I don't exactly get why, but her and Phoebe are best friends, and you know I think Phoebe is a golden girl, so I must just not be able to see it. But as we were about to leave, Phoebe gets a text from Helga saying she wants Phoebe to cover for her and she will be there early in the morning."

"That must be why she left so quickly." _Damn_.

"Exactly. Phoebe didn't say where Helga was, but I had a feeling you two had crossed paths. And knowing you, you tried to make things 'better'." I really hate when he uses air quotes like that.

"Fine. I came home from the docks, and I could tell there was someone on my roof. I went out and there was Helga, she was so sad and-"

"She was just on your roof?"

"Yeah. I guess her bow had come undone and blew around the neighborhood and got caught on my fire escape so she just went up onto the roof for a bit since she was there."

"Still weird, man."

" _Anyway_ , she was just so sad, so I told her to wait a minute and I grabbed some blankets and pillows and a few Yahoos, and made a thick stack of blankets and we just sat and talked. I mostly just let her talk some things out, but we sat and ate some Easter candy and finished the Yahoos and I held her while she cried and-"

"I would not want to be near a crying Helga G. Pataki, that sounds like a death sentence."

"I think she just needed someone to talk to."

"By which you mean you."

"Ideally, I mean… I really like her, Gerald. I mean, I like really, _really_ like her."

"I know man. Let's not forget the Mighty Pete incident."

"I know." I don't even know if I want to tell him the rest. "I had a chance to kiss her, but I didn't."

"What? Why not?"

"I didn't want to be 'that guy' that kisses crying girls, the guy that uses them, or the guy that is the rebound guy."

"That makes sense."

"So we eventually went to sleep, right on the roof and-"

"You're a bold kid, Arnold."

"Nothing like that. I put a pillow between us. She left a little after sunrise, but she kissed me on the cheek before she left."

"See? Fuzzy Slippers tells no lies." _He really doesn't._

We finish our game, but Gerald easily beats me, as I am no longer focused on the ball, just Helga.


	11. April 11

April 11-

I am glad for practice to come. And, for Kayla to be mad at her brother and not at me. When I get into game mode, there aren't other thoughts. When I get home though, Bob starts with me as soon as I walk in the door. "Olga, why weren't you at family dinner tonight?"

"Helga, Bob, it's Helga. And I had practice. I have practice every Monday. I have practice almost every single day. Criminy! How many times do I have to tell you, Bob?"

"Miriam!" He yells at her, despite her being mere feet away. The sound causes her head to jerk up off the table, her hand still wrapped around her 'smoothie' glass.

"Yes, B?" She takes a big gulp from her glass.

"Are you gonna just let the girl talk to me like that?"

"Now Helga, you shouldn't talk to your father like that."

"Whatever, Miriam." I go to my room and close the door. I get in my closet and pull down an old suitcase. It is torn and hard, like my heart; yet it is safe and green, like his eyes. I haven't had a shrine set up for a long time, but I still have my favorite parts of it. The last entry to the suitcase was my locket. I take it out and trace it with my fingertip. It is an old friend, and a great comfort to me- a calm in the storm I have been through. The words are on my tongue, but they barely come out a whisper for fear they will escape and I will lose this serenity, "Arnold, my soul, you are always in my heart." I open the locket. The words are still there, a feeling of relief washes over me.

All the way to one side of the case is a rolled up mantle, much too long for the nine year old I once was. I wrap it around my body, another old friend. I close the case and put it away, then put the locket on. "Never again, my love. Never again shall I forsake you for another." I don't even bother to change. Still wearing my wrap, I lie down and curl up in its warmth- Arnold once again the closest thing to my heart, and turn off the light.


	12. April 12

April 12-

My application for camp arrived. Camp Short Round in Wynoochee Lake; the packet they sent with the application is even more impressive than the website. It is a sixteen and up adventuring and survival camp. The camp is on the east side of the lake, about two miles up from the dam at the south end. This is just the kind of thing I need; to take a break from my current obsessive tendencies, and to follow in my parent's footsteps.

Six weeks of hiking and kayaking, ziplining and tournaments; learning to build our own shelters and how to live off the land, I really can't wait. The camp is a little pricey, but has some pretty big name people running it. Well, big in the world of cartography, there will also be a retired world champion triathlon winner, and an internet famous survivalist.

If I am going to travel the globe like my parents, I am going to need some of these skills. I mean, I still plan on going to college and everything, but – why am I defending summer camp to my journal?

-APS

I need to get a grip. First it's talking back to my journal, next it'll be me arguing with myself. Summer camp is just what I need.

* * *

I am so excited! My application packet for summer camp came! Colloquium of Mystique in Classic Poetry and Literature; ironically referred to as Camp COMIC. I saved up an entire year working at Bob's to pay for this baby, and they are offering even better courses this year than they did last year. The camp is going to be in a Victorian cabin resort at the north end of Wynoochee Lake near Maidenhead Falls.

Six weeks of reading and writing. Six weeks of intelligent discussion and feedback. They have so many courses they are offering in the six weeks; I wish I could take them all, but you take four. The first three weeks are your first symposiums, then a week of readings and review, followed by one more symposium, and the last week is poetry and binding our own book. The groups are small, and you have to turn in writings to get into the courses. You apply to your top six, in order; if you don't make four courses, you don't get in. I can't wait. I need to give Phoebe a call about this…

* * *

Wynoochee Lake is a real place in the south end of the Olympic National Forest. The dam is at the south end, and Maidenhead Falls is at the north end. The camps are made up, but you can camp just to the northwest of the dam. I only mention any of this in case any of you wanted to take a peek at where they will spend their summer.


	13. April 13

April 13-

Everything was going fine. Class was fine. Homework was fine. Helga and I were fine. Then I stopped to get a drink at the water fountain before my last class.

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what, Sid?"

"It's Helga! She's single, Stinky!" I was just about done, but I couldn't help but bend my ear to hear what they were going to say about Helga.

"Why yes, I did."

"Too bad about Gloria though."

"Actually Sid, Gloria was the one that gone and told me."

"Your girlfriend told you the girl you are in love with was single? I don't believe it." Hearing this nearly caused me to spit water all over the wall, instead I merely dropped my chin to what felt like my feet.

"Gloria was always insecure about Helga. That there is why we were so dern off an on all these years."

"So she just told you?"

"She dumped me. She plumb went crazy and wanted me to choose. When I didn't answer right away she told me it was over."

"You okay man?"

"Yeah, I mean, I had some lemon puddin' waitin' for me at home, so I was alright; but weren't nothing like the agony and rejection when Helga broke my heart." My brain suddenly went back to that day in fourth grade when Stinky first confessed to me that he loved Helga. The thought of anyone loving Helga scared me right out of my seat. "After I had my lemon puddin' I wrote her online; I said to her: Helga, on a account a that's her name, Helga, I think we could be really good together, Helga- I think I love you." I think I'm going to vomit. Stinky is a good friend, I didn't know he was still in love with her.

"Man, you got it bad. Want to skip?"

"Sid, I thought you would never ask." They walk away; I am stunned. And wet. I look down and I still have the water fountain on. I let go, but the drain is clogged with gum and spit, and I now have a river of spit water down the front of my pants and I am standing in a sizeable puddle.

"Great." I go to class and my teacher sees me at the door, "I'll be late?" and as he nods I take off in the direction of the gym before they lock me out* so I can change into my shorts that are in my locker.

* * *

[Helga,

I think we could be really good together

Helga- I think I love you

I always knew Helga, that even though you have always been a screamin blowhard, that you have a kind sweet woman behind that mask, my pet, and that you was the only girl for me

LOVE, Stinky Peterson]

"Good God, what fresh hell is this?" I think that is my cue for bedtime.

* * *

*Many schools lock the locker rooms during class so nobody can cut class by hiding there/steal stuff/take pictures/things people do in locker rooms.


	14. April 14

April 14-

"Hey Stinky, Sid." I nod as I say each of their names and try to play casual- placing my lunch tray down at his table, as if I've sat there every other day.

"Well boy howdy there, Arnold. What brings you to this neck of the cafeteria?"

"You know," I have to do this; "Gerald and Phoebe have been extra kissy, with prom coming and all. I've just been feeling like a third wheel over there, so I thought I'd have lunch with you guys today."

"Well, it's good to have you today Arnold, good to have you today," Sid says as he flings a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto the middle of the floor, "cause today we get to see if Stinky gets the girl of his dreams." _Man, I won't even have to pry, these guys are going to just tell me everything anyway!_

"His dream girl?" I ask, already knowing the answer, "I thought Stinky and Gloria had already been dating for awhile now."

"God, Arnold! Where have you been? Not Gloria, Helga!" Sid says as he fires more mashed potatoes from his spork catapult. Someone is really going to slip on that.

"Helga?" Hearing it today is nearly as surprising as hearing it yesterday and my shock is genuine.

"Yeah, as in Miss Helga G. Pataki herself. Stinky here has been in love with her since she dumped him like the loser-"

"Hey! Now Sid, she dumped me on a account of I got her stung by all them bees, and maybe cause I threw her into the organ at the skatin' rink."

"Yeah, yeah, she still dumped you," Sid continues, "I don't know if she knew the hottie that she would turn into, but-"

"Sid," my words are friendly, but accusatory, "you think every girl is a hottie."

"That may be true Arnold, but Helga is an extra hottie, because I mean, look at how she started." _What? Helga was never what I would call bad looking. In fact, any attempt she made at trying put her in a league beyond any of the other girls in our class, wait, I have a mission; whatever it is_. "So Arnold, get this, Gloria finds out Helga is single, and dumps Stinky here because of it! Isn't that just the funniest thing? I mean, why dump someone because someone else they like is single? And then Stinky here, oh man! Arnold! He writes Helga online, and sends her a love letter!" _Boy, Sid sure can ramble. He never was exactly focused though_. "A love letter! Arnold! Can you imagine?"

"Really? You wrote Helga a love letter? If you don't mind, what did you say to her? And did she write back, Stinky?" I am maybe too quick to ask, but I have to know.

"Not yet, Arnold. I told her I love her and that she was the only girl for me and we would be good together. She must be weighing her feelings, but she musta felt somethin' before and there ain't no tellin that she won't feel somethin' now."

"Stinky, I-"

*CRASH*

"Oh no, not Gino." _Looks like Sid is in for it over those potatoes_. "Guys, it's been great, but I gotta go, I have a… a, uh thing, yeah, that's it, a thing," he trailed off as he ran off, leaving Stinky and I alone together.

"Just keep me updated, okay Stinky?"

"Sure thing, Arnold. You know, you really helped me out when Helga broke my heart all them years ago. I was a sad and sorry state of affairs there, Arnold. I was all torn up inside, crazy in love with Helga, and you didn't judge me one bit, Arnold. You are a great friend. Thank you." _Crap. I am a terrible friend_. I wave bye to Stinky and clean up my mess before heading to my next class.


	15. April 15

April 15-

[G what do I do? L]

[Why does it matter?]

[Stinky is my friend]

[You are not stealing her from him. What is the big deal?]

[But you didn't hear him G. how sad he was last time when she dumped him.]

[Exactly! She DUMPED him!]

[He was wistful. I didn't even know Stinky knew words like that tbh.]

[What? That is so weird. I really don't get you guys and this whole Pataki thing 4 real.]

Gerald was obviously going to be of no help. I didn't really know where else to turn, so I went to talk to Gloria. I knew she worked in the mall food court at the falafel place with the extra embarrassing uniforms; yellow embroidered blouses with this ugly falafel hat. "Hey, how's it going Gloria?" I say, noting luck is on my side. Opening night for some new 'found footage' style horror movie, so the food court was currently empty; Gloria is on the register, that falafel hat is truly terrible.

"Hello there, Arnold."

"Gloria, would you mind if I cut to the chase? What happened with you and Stinky?"

"Well Arnold, to be perfectly honest… you remember that girl, Helga Pataki?"

"Yeah, she is best friends with Gerald's girlfriend, I see her around sometimes." _Gotta play this cool_.

"Yes, that's the one. Stinky is in love with her."

"Well, what makes you say that?"

"It's true, Arnold. He always has been… he only even dated me in the first place because I reminded him of her."

"That couldn't be true. Gloria, Stinky wouldn't do a thing like that."

"Oh, but it is true, he told me himself."

"He did?" _This isn't exactly going as I had hoped_.

"Yeah, he always said I was 'the ray of sunshine in his wistful melancholy' caused by his broken heart. I know she dumped him right before he asked me out."

"I'm sorry. I don't think he ever meant to hurt you."

"He didn't mean to, but he did. And I knew he always pined for her. I even tried being meaner to him to see if that would help. It didn't."

"Oh. Well, I am sorry… and I'm sorry to bug you at work, Gloria."

"No worries," she looks at me for a minute before speaking, "and Arnold? Talk to Stinky again. About his relationship with Helga. Be specific and invasive. I love him, but he won't know what you are doing, and I think he has some answers for you. Answers he doesn't know, to questions you don't know." I am stunned and she just smiles at me. "Bye there, Arnold. Have a good weekend."

* * *

*SO SORRY! My internet was down last night, and it wasn't back up before I went to breakfast and did family stuff for my sister's birthday.


	16. April 16

April 16-

My original plan for the day, as of Monday, was to try to be in the same place as Helga today. Instead, I invite Stinky over for an old-fashioned sleepover. I am going to 'help' him with his Helga problem. After all, his Helga problem is my Helga problem.

We order a pizza, away from the boarders and take it up to my room, along with a twelve pack of Yahoo, 2 jumbo bags of chips, and a five pound bag of sour gummy worms*. We get straight into our pajama pants and dig in. "Sid's not here, we could watch horror movies tonight." I offer as our entertainment for the evening.

"Well, gee Arnold, that sounds fine by me."

"Cool, I'll get some things out when I finish having greasy pizza fingers."

"That works for me." We eat in a mild silence, punctuated by idle school chat.

"Hey, Stinky… you really like Helga, right?"

"I'd say I rightly do, Arnold. That girl has forever had me all torn up inside, ever since we dated back at PS118."

"So, what exactly happened between you two?"

"Well, Arnold, let me tell you. That woman, she used me and losed** me."

"She used you? What do you mean? Weren't we pretty young for anything like that?" _Please, let him mean anything else!_

"Everything with Helga is business, Arnold. She was a bossy blowhard and a smart business lady."

"Business? I think you need to explain this to me better."

"Yeah Arnold, she paid me a Mr. Nutty a day to be her hired boyfriend."

"A Mr. Nutty a day? To be her hired boyfriend?" _What on Earth was she doing that for?_

"Yessir! A Mr. Nutty a day. I know she just wanted to spend time with me. It was so cute Arnold, you have no idea." _Oh, I think I have an idea…_

"So what did the two of you do, while you dated? How did you know she wanted to spend all this time with you?"

"She always wanted me to call her sweet names, like 'my pet' and show off our relationship in front of other people."

"Uh, Stinky? Could she maybe have been wanting to make someone else jealous?"

"Oh, no way, Arnold. Helga wasn't like that."

"Okay, so what happened?"

"Like, there was this one time we was in the library, and then you walked in, and she had me tuck her chair in, and call her 'my pet' so as you would see. Then there was the time that we went skatin', but I didn't exactly know how. But she demanded that everyone there see how much in love we were. Then there was the time that we went to the park all dressed up adult like, and you and Gerald was there throwin' yer ball, but we had t'leave on a account of too many bees got in her bonnet." I think I am seeing what Gloria wanted me to see. I was the person Helga wanted to make jealous. Almost makes me wonder if the whole Leon thing was to make me jealous. Almost.

We finish our pizza, and put on an old black and white movie about a diner waitress with three heads. We talk a bit the rest of the night, and he basically confirms everything Gloria told me, that she was a Helga replacement. We stay up the rest of the night, but he doesn't have anything new to say, and doesn't change his mind about Helga. I wonder if I should just come clean to him, and how he might react…

* * *

*Fun Fact: I had a purse in high school, it was this fairly hideous fringy biker bag, but it was leather and so soft, and had a nice fat strap that didn't cut into your skin, and I loved the hell out of it - I got a five pound bag of gummy worms, snuck it into the movies, and then carried that bad boy around school all week. I was the gummy worm queen, bestowing sugary goodness to my beloved subjects.

**Yes, losed, as in lose, but rhyming with used.


	17. April 17

April 17-

[Phoebe- SOS I repeat SOS]

[What is it?]

[I need you to pick me up]

[OK where are you?]

[Gerald field hurry]

I see her car pull up, and not a second too soon. "God, Phoebes, I love this freakin car!" I say before adding, "Let's get the hell outta here." I throw my bag in and duck down under the dash, "Is Stinky out there?"

"No, he went to Arnold's," she replied quietly, but curious. "I will have to see if Gerald hears anything about this. So what happened?"

"Stinky happened! At least when Brainy snuck up on me I could hear him wheezing away from his asthma, Stinky though got close enough to get down on his knee and start professing his love while I was picking up our doughnuts." I pull out a medium sized pink box from my bag, "Here ya go, Phoebes," as I throw it open and hand over her first doughnut- raised, double chocolate glazed, with those rainbow chocolate covered sunflower seeds instead of sprinkles. I dig into my custard filled maple bar and am in one of my few happy places. "I lost him when I turned a corner and hid under the bleachers until you came. We will have to make a pot of coffee at your place though, sorry."

"I figured as much, and asked my mom to start up a pot on my way out the door."

"Man, your mom is great. And speaking of great, Gerald is really coming through on this car for you." He may be a basketball star, but that boy can fix up a car like no other. Phoebe had bought herself a '91 Acura Legend with a pristine body and no engine for a hundred smackers, and tall hair boy turned it into a real beauty. He had personally pulled out everything from inside and gave her a custom leather dash and console, and new leather seats to boot. This was after he built her an engine from basically scratch. And for her birthday? A new paint job. The whole things looks like the Delorean from Back to the Future, except for the doors are only painted on. He even built her the big boxy spoilers. Topped the whole thing off with a custom license plate frame: OUTATIME.

I also happen to know that when prom rolls around that instead of a corsage he got her a plug in Flux Capacitor for her dash. I didn't think he had it in him, but the kid turned out alright. Of course, I never pegged Phoebe for the kind to obsess over a car, so there's that.

We get to her place, and take our coffee up to her room and make our shopping battle plan. We have six weeks until her dance, seven until mine. We don't want to compete for dressing rooms or be judged by other girls while we are there, causing us to second guess our dresses. We both have great grades, so we decide the best course of action is to get ourselves excused from school for a day and have the stores to ourselves. Once Phoebe writes down all the notes she needs for our trip, we kick back and finish our doughnuts.

"So Helga, what was it that made you go out with Stinky in the first place?" she asks, trying to sound like a news reporter. She almost made it without laughing. I didn't. Too bad we weren't at my place, I still have that awful southern belle dress* I wore on our last 'date'. Miriam had made me keep it because it was from her sister's second wedding when Olga and I were bridesmaids.

* * *

*Please see the episode Helga's Boyfriend and take a gander at that dress


	18. April 18

April 18-

"I don't know man, I don't think you have anything to worry about." Gerald tosses the small green ball in the air and reaches overhead *SWISH* and totally misses. "Man, I really hate tennis. Why do they even make us play this anyway?"

"Gerald, I am sure plenty of people say that about basketball. And how can you be so sure I have nothing to worry about?"

"Because man, this is Stinky Peterson we are talking about. And Helga. As in Helga G. Pataki. You have nothing to worry about."

"But-"

"Dude, chill and uh… maybe you should just serve." He tosses me the ball with his fast pitch, but it doesn't quite have the effect he was going for. I toss the ball up and make contact easily. "Did I mention that I really hate tennis?"

* * *

[Helga, my pet,

I think we could be really good together,

Stinky Peterson]

The delivery guy showed up during homeroom. The flowers were in a big heavy vase, dozens of them; mostly carnations, but some roses and daisies, all rainbow dyed. The whole business was near three feet tall and two wide. _Oh god, at school? How could this get any worse?_ Luckily, her teacher had been out of the room making copies and I was able to pocket the card, and pull out half the flowers before leaving the vase on the teacher's desk on my way out. I passed out flowers to girls I was friendly with as I walked down the hall to my first class, and the last few to some teachers that were gossiping in the hall.

 _What is it about boys that make me unable to focus at school? There aren't even any boys at this school!_ I am going to need to actively do something about this.


	19. April 19

April 19-

"Girls, it's the absolute worst!" Rhonda came up to the lunch table where I usually ate with the other girls on the team. Seeing as it was not Friday, when we usually wore our uniforms at school to boost spirit for our games over the weekend, which is the day she ditches her fashion cronies for us… this was big.

"Spill it, Princess; what's the big deal?" I still call her Princess, but so does the whole team; it's mostly not an insult.

"It's not fair! Simply not fair!" At this point, half the table is up and consoling her. She probably just broke a nail in homeroom or something. Maybe not; Rhonda is actually crying. Real tears, not those crybaby crocodile tears she usually throws around. She sits at the table and hands a paper over to me; crumpled from anger and wet from tears. I open it and try to unwrinkled it as best as I can in order to read it. It was typed up on the school's letterhead, it probably wasn't good.

[Dear Miss Wellington-Lloyd:

It is with utmost regret that we inform you of the decision the school council has made regarding your guest request for the 2016 Junior Prom. We feel that despite being a previous student with a wonderful record here at Miss Higgins Academy for Young Ladies, that Miss Patricia Smith is too old* to attend a function of this nature.

As much as we would enjoy seeing Miss Smith again, she is far above the guest age limit set by the school. You must understand we cannot make an exception on the basis that she is a female or that she is a previous student.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding this matter, you may contact the headmistress directly.

Bonnie Radcliffe

Headmistress]

I finish reading it out loud to the table. "Wow, I am so sorry Rhonda." She is sobbing quietly into her hands. "Head Hunter Bonnie signed it herself, probably not much chance in fighting this."

"I know," she sighed, "I just started dress shopping and was really hoping she could come with me."

"Hey, Rhonda?"

"Yeah Helga?"

"Maybe she could still get dressed up, I mean, I'm going with Phoebes… as friends, but still. We could make it like a double? Go out to a ritzy place and get dinner, and maybe have the whole team come to my place to take photos on the balcony? Then we can have a afterparty/sleepover? It won't be the same I know, but-"

"Helga? It'll be perfect."

* * *

*Reminder: Patty was 14/6th grade when they were 9/4th grade, making her most likely 22 when they are 17.

**SORRY! Thought this was posted! ACK!


	20. April 20

April 20-

Phoebe and I bailed on school today for a good old-fashioned 'day with the girls' complete with salon appointments, shopping, and coffee. We meet up at the piers, and start our day with some hot and foamy lattes.

"So Phoebes, I may have volunteered to host the pre and post prom shenanigans."

"Really? That isn't exactly your thing Helga."

"Yeah, I know. But the school told Rhonda that Patty couldn't come to the dance and it sorta just snowballed from there."

"What did you tell your parents?"

"I told Bob he could make some swag bags with some of his business buddies. I mean, most of the kids coming are from big name families that like to throw money around."

"I'm sure your dad loved that."

"Meh, he did. He was up on the phone all night starting to put things together." We finish our lattes and look at the row of shops. "So, which one first Phoebes?"

"I don't even know why you ask. I know you just want to go to Valerie's Vintage."

"Phoebes, you know me so well."

We gather our purses and coats and head a few doors down to the main building entrance and walk down the maze of winding boardwalk style ramps to the fourth level basement to my favorite store in town.

"Helga!"

"Hey Reggie!"

"What brings in one of my favorite customers today?"

"Me and my associate here need some one of a kind kick ass prom dresses. Better be first class all the way, nothing on the cheap, you got me?"*

"Oh, I have just the thing," he keeps talking while he goes into the back room, "I literally just bought these at an estate sale this weekend and haven't even finished sorting it all. I was going to put these on the mannequins," he comes back out with some gray linen dress bags, "but I know you are why I bought these." He hangs them on a row of hooks on the wall and unbags them.

"Oh, Helga. They are beautiful."

"You took the words right out of my mouth Phoebes." We take them into the dressing room, and they fit us perfect. "Reggie, this is exactly why I keep coming back here." We take the dresses off and get them back in the bags. "Any chance you have matching shoes back there?"

"I may be a Fairy, but I ain't no Godmother. You are on your own for shoes girls."

"Gotcha. Ring me up for both." I pay and set up delivery to my building. We start our trek back up to the main level. "Well, Phoebes, how does a Panini sound?"

"I could have bought my dress, you didn't have to do that Helga."

"Sure I did Phoebes. You are my best friend, and you are helping me out. You have your own dress to buy when you go to your own dance with Tall Hair Boy… now about that Panini? I'm starving to death over here."

We eat our lunch, then go in for pedicures, "Oh, Helga, good thing you had the dresses delivered. This smell would stick in them forever."

"Exactly." I may not enjoy the smell, but I could live in one of those massage chairs while someone massages my feet. "How about we catch a movie after this?"

* * *

*See the episode [April Fool's Day]


	21. April 21

April 21-

Camp Short Round Application Essay #1 of 4

Being Arnold

Arnold Shortman

My name is Arnold Shortman, and I was raised by my Grandparents in the city of Hillwood, WA. My Grandparents own a boarding house, so I have many 'extended relatives' that I have no actual blood relation to. I feel that in the long run, it was better for me. My Grandparents were never exactly what I would call 'in touch' with the times, but I benefitted from the life experience of many people that I would not have had I grown up in a traditional house with a traditional family.

Most kids get dogs or cats, maybe even a rabbit or a hamster as a pet. I had Abner. He may have been a pig, but he was smarter than most dogs. He was so loving too, and could really understand you. He died a few years ago, but I spent the last month of his life camped in the backyard with him, just feeding him his favorite foods and letting him play in the mud as much as he wanted. Abner dying was hard on me, but I'm glad I was able to make his final chapter a good one.

If I had to describe what kind of person I was, I would say I was a diagnostic personality type, and the moral compass. I am the person that my friends come to when they need to make a decision- or when they have already made the wrong one. I listen to their stories, and simply state the facts back to them, and tell them to do the honest thing about it. not that I am perfect or anything, far from it. but it is far easier to be objective concerning others than yourself.

When we were younger, my best friend Gerald, and a bunch of kids from the neighborhood cleaned up an empty lot near my house and converted it into a baseball field. Sometimes we would play football there too, but we are a bit big for football on the lot now. But we do help the younger kids maintain it, so the lot can continue to be a safe and fun space. We aren't like the big kids before us; the kids that tried to bully the lot away from us after we had fixed it up. We hope that each group will help keep the lot for the group that comes after them. A good lesson for life as a whole; not just an empty lot. I have played sports since I was a kid, and I am currently on the baseball team at school. I was on the basketball team the last few years, but wanted to focus on art and writing a little more and now I just play basketball with Gerald in free time.


	22. April 22

April 22-

Camp Short Round Application Essay #2 of 4

Elk Island Adventure

Arnold Shortman

The biggest adventure I think I ever went on was back in the fourth grade. A bunch of us kids from school were hanging out down at the pier, and someone asked about Elk Island. It turned out that not everyone had heard of the legend of Wheezin' Ed, a notorious gangster that now 'haunted' the island. My friend Gerald, who we referred to as 'The Keeper of the Tales' went on to tell the story of Wheezin' Ed and his treasure for the kids who were not familiar with it; one thing led to another and we were on a small boat being ferried across to the island.

We left our friend Harold outside to guard the so-called haunted cave, as he was kind of scared to actually go in the cave. The rest of us went into the cave and started to explore. When the cave split, we did too. We split into teams and went down our separate tunnels, and left trails of jelly beans behind us. I ended up going with this girl Helga. She was my bully in elementary school, and even though she was usually nice to people one on one, you could never be sure- and that upped my fear factor just a little bit to be sure.

We found these drawings in the cave, and while we were looking them over, we heard it. Wheezing. It was coming closer and closer. We started to freak out a little to be sure, and it was just this kid from our class who had bad asthma that was exploring on his own. But Helga had screamed so loud when we heard him that all the other kids came running. Once we collected ourselves, I stepped back and fell into a pit.

Everyone followed me into the pit, and we found piles of gold. Only this gold looked like pennies, only not made so good. The men who were making the fake pennies found us and so we ran. We went back to our jellybean trail, only Harold had started picking them up and eating them because he gets hungry when he is bored. We found our way out and the cops, and our boat back, were actually waiting for the guys when we got out.

* * *

*Please see the episode [Wheezin' Ed]


	23. April 23

April 23-

Camp Short Round Application Essay #3 of 4

Pigeon Man

Arnold Shortman

Of all the defining moments of my life: being left behind by my parents and raised by my grandparents, wearing bunny pajamas in public to gain back a friend's trust, helping a friend get out of debt with the mafia, helping an adult immigrant learn to read, and many other things that have shaped me to be the young man I am today- there is one that I really took to heart as a child. I was nine years old and had my own carrier pigeon named Chester. Chester had become ill and I was told The Legend of the Pigeon Man.

Pigeon Man turned out to be an older man named Vincent. He lived on the rooftop of a rundown building downtown and told me I could pick Chester up the next day. When I came back to pick up Chester, he gave me some berries and things for him and my bird was in much better condition. I spoke with the man, and he told me about his life. He had even had the same teacher as me when he had been my age. He trusted pigeons. He did not trust people.

I wanted to repay him for taking care of Chester, and took him out for pizza and conversation. Unfortunately, some kids had seen him leave with me, and went up onto his roof and trashed the pigeon houses and roosting areas and even the play area he had built for them from found scrap, they knocked over bags of food, and scared all the birds away. When we got back on the roof, he was broken.

People.

I had asked him who could do such a thing, and that was what he told me. People. He told me that some people just weren't meant to be with other people; that some people were just different. He told me not to be sad. He told me that I taught him that some people could be trusted. He told me he was going to move to a place where he could live in peace with his friends, the pigeons; to be able to help them, to feed them, to tend to their wounds. I left. I said goodbye and I left.

I made it to the bottom of the building. All twelve floors. I made it two more blocks. I turned and ran back, and got there, just in time to see him. He was mid-fall and beyond my reach. He had waited until I left, and he jumped. He landed backside down, and took a bag of feed with him. As soon as he hit the ground, he was covered in birds.

Vincent taught me a number of lessons, I am still learning them, and will probably continue to do so for many years to come. But he taught me to stick to my convictions. He taught me that there is good and bad, and that they can exist in each other. Those kids just thought they were playing a harmless prank. They didn't mean to trash everything, they didn't mean to push a man far enough to finally take his life. But they did. He taught me that life is what you make it. He taught me to believe in people- that some are good, honest, and trustworthy; even when society seems overwhelming.

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*Please see the episode [Pigeon Man]


	24. April 24

April 24-

Camp Short Round Application Essay #4 of 4

Why I Want to be an Adventurer

Arnold Shortman

Camp Short Round, the lessons, the skills – all that I will be learning mean the world to me. My parents are Miles and Stella Shortman, and they saved the Green-Eyed People of San Lorenzo. They left me with my grandparents when I was still just a baby; I spent half my life not knowing them: who they were, why they left, why they had not returned. But there were letters. There was my dad's journal.

My goal in life is to be like my parents: explorers, doctors, scientists. Most kids want to be who they see in the movies, like astronauts, bounty hunters, firefighters, circus performers, and so on. I had my very own Indiana Jones to look up to. Two of them. Adventuring has simply been my whole life. There really is no other path for me.

I want to study the world; I want to explore, discover, and learn. I want to live with different cultures, and teach people about those cultures. I am especially interested in Proto-Indo-European religion* and society and the Trifunctional Hypothesis* and how this compares with the cultures of the same periods in the Americas.

Even if I could never do those things, if I never left the house I have grown up in, I would still explore. There is so much in my own backyard. Hillwood is an amazing city with a deep history, and I would gladly become a town historian if that is the path my life ended up taking. It is a path I would be glad to take. Life itself is an adventure, so I suppose any path I take will make me an adventurer.

* * *

*Proto-Indo-European religion – Lived approx 4000 through 3000 BC, possibly as early as 7500 BC. They practiced animal husbandry/breeding and had domesticated animals. They had the wheel and ox carts. They had horses and cows. They practiced Polytheism [like the Greek or Norse gods] and despite being spread quite far, had the same creation stories and gods. This group settled Europe, most of the Mediterranean, a large portion of the Middle East and India. A very interesting subject :D

*Trifunctional Hypothesis – Priests/Rulers, Warriors/Military, Commoners/Farmers and how those groups fit into Proto-Indo-European religion/mythology with a group of gods tailored for each group.


	25. April 25

April 25-

This application to Camp Short Round is much more intensive than I had anticipated.

It took my mind off of Helga, so I suppose it is already doing the job I intended it for.

Helga. Crap. I wonder what she is doing. I wonder if she has a date to Junior Prom yet. These girls at school… They have been dropping hints left and right. And not just girls I know either. I had four Freshmen and seven Sophomores talk to me about Prom. One of the Freshmen didn't even beat around the bush and just asked me if I would take her.

It is the last few minutes of lunch and I am hanging out by my locker to avoid the girls in the cafeteria. I really hate where my locker is, right by the band room. It is always noisy over here and I can't talk to people by my locker. People also constantly bump into me with their instrument cases.

I notice a pair of shoes from under the door of my locker, so I close it to see who is there. Immediate regret. Lauren Lockwood*. Freshman Student Body President. Over-enthusiastic trumpet player. And she really wants to go to every single school dance. She singled me out about a month ago; doing sports and having a locker near the band room put me on her radar.

The second my locker latches shut- she has her hands on me. She must have left her things in the band room. "Hello there," she says in her small voice. She is trying to be sultry, but she mostly comes across as mousy. In fact, her entire being is mousy. Her hair is mousy: soft, but wispy and brittle looking. Her eyes are mousy: they are huge, and could be quite adorable; if not for the fact that she always looked scared, as though she were always trying to see everything in the room at all times. Her face is mousy: large front teeth, held in small lips and a dainty nose placed a bit high on her face. One hand is on my chest, the other is trying to find itself a path to lace into my fingers. She would have been better off asking me while playing the trumpet. She is bolder, and definitely not mousy, when she plays. It changes her.

But right now, she is kind of creeping me out. I am nearly three years older than her. "Hey Lauren, need something?" I play it cool with her and hope she mouses* her way out of going any farther with this.

"Yeah," she is trying to play it cool too, but her wandering hand is throwing her off, "I was wondering what you were doing this weekend. Maybe we could catch a movie?" Ugh.

"Yeah, see…" I hate doing things like this, "the thing about that Lauren, I really have my hopes set on someone for Prom already." She is keeping it together, but is obviously upset.

"I wasn't asking about Prom." She is still smiling, but it is forced and her voice falters.

"A date turns into dating, turns into a Prom date. I am not looking for anything outside of that girl right now." She wasn't expecting me to be so blunt. Her jaw drops slightly; her hand drops significantly, and lands softly at her side. "I am sorry. I wish you luck in your mission." That may have ticked her off a bit. She abruptly turns and swiftly heel-toe band walks away and into the band room.

Too bad I know she just wants in the dance. Too bad I am only interested in one girl.

* * *

*mouses- I am aware that this isn't a real word, at least not in the way I use it here. But these are Arnold's thoughts, and people make words up all the time.

*Lauren Lockwood- OC, feel free to use her [I know some people have trouble coming up with characters]


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